The New Hot Spot
by Stargazer at Moonlight
Summary: G1 AU. The war is over - has been over for several vorn - and Prowl is finally getting out of working for the government. There's a new place opening up that will become the 'hot spot' to hang out at for the former Autobots and Decepticons and more hilarity than most can manage will ensue.


The New Hot Spot

Chapter One: Original Setting

* * *

It had been a long time coming, he mused, surveying the outside of the rather small building he had purchased over a vorn before. Finally he would be able to get back to a life that was not all about war, fighting, keeping others alive, and himself barely functioning. Not that he had chosen to return to what he had been, he could not bring himself to do that, but it was something he had always wanted to try his hand at, especially since all of his friends – those he had had at the time – had told him that he should have made a business out of what he did for them when requested. He had also enjoyed doing for them, creating new combinations that they were always eager to help him sample and supplying them with supplies for their many dates. It was something that he had given up entirely during the war and had only recently begun to experiment with again. However, just because he had ceased creating the little treats, it did not mean that he had forgotten how to. Ever since he had gotten his own, tiny apartment, which he had made sure had a small kitchenette, he had begun to work towards new recipes again – and had surprised all of the mecha that he worked alongside with how much calmer and happier he was. Ratchet had even been called in to do a processor scan since no one had believed what was happening was not caused by some kind of virus.

That had been an amusing time, especially since Ratchet had been the one that had argued so forcefully on his behalf to have his resignation accepted. That was reason enough to give him a small gift, one that had ended up with the medic staring after him with a jaw dropped in shock and a small box of some treats that had, before the war, been created specifically for overworked medics. He had yet to track him down to demand where they had come from, but he was expecting him to at some point in the near future. After all, if he wanted a steady supply of them, he was going to need to know where they were from and he had not told him that he was opening this place. Only Thundercracker was aware of his plans for this small building right in the middle of the business district and he had promised that he would meet him there at the beginning of the orn. He would arrive shortly, he knew, since the flier was always punctual and they had begun meeting over early energon several vorn before to discuss the needs and wants of each side when it came to peace time – something that their respective leaders had _finally_ decided needed to happen. The details had been left up to those mecha that each side had appointed as their representatives and, surprising both of them, they had been the most popular choices. Considering how much the Autobots had despised his leadership, he had had no expectation of being voted for and Thundercracker had believed that his Trinemate would have gotten the vote because he seemed to get his way more often than not. Neither of those, however, had happened and neither of them could find it in themselves to be upset about it since they had been able to set up one of the most equitable peace treaties anyone knew of ever having taken place and had formed a friendship that neither was going to soon forget, even if one of them was no longer working in the government.

In fact, he was walking down the rather narrow thoroughfare, wings held high and wide to stretch the kinks from the wiring that would have set in during a recharge cycle. His own sensor panels were also flared widely to accomplish the same action as he had only recently rolled out of his berth to make his way down as he did not live too close by. He raised a hand in greeting, drawing the attention of the larger Seeker as he was singled out from the rest of the small crowd of mecha that were flowing towards their jobs in the surrounding buildings, most of which were basic desk jobs that only the Neutrals could hold still long enough to accomplish. None of the former Autobots or Decepticons could ever return to a job where they had to be still for so long since all that they had known for millennia was action and had all chosen to go into fields that kept them mobile, with most of them in physical labor such as exploration or manufacturing if they were not employed in the government or trade.

"Good orn, Prowl," the Seeker greeted him warmly, pulling his wings back for a hard stretch before allowing them to relax back into their normal set.

The doorwinger followed suit before moving forward to unlock the door and disarm the security system. "To you as well, TC," he said with an informal flick of his panels in welcome.

"So this is where you've got yourself set up," he murmured, looking around at the various tall buildings, all with signs showing some of the largest companies, surrounding this small, one level house that had been converted into a small shop that he knew the other mech had much bigger plans for. It was quite out of place in the area and seemed to have been one of the few surviving structures in this place, indicating that it had previously been a middle income neighborhood that had probably been destroyed in one of the many series of bombings that had taken place there in Simfur. "Definitely put yourself in the right place for business, that's for sure. Once all of these mecha realize that they have a place they can stop and pick something up, they'll be beating down your door to get inside." He turned a critical optic on the doorwinger and asked with a grin, "Are you going to become a workaholic with this too?"

"Of course not," the black and white answered, opening the door and gesturing for the flier to precede him, an action that most from the two opposing factions were still not comfortable with participating in as it meant that there was an enemy at their back, but that Prowl and Thundercracker had taken as the gesture it was meant as with their frame-types. Considering the extra sensors that their wings provided them, the one opening the door could easily read if someone was in the room that the other did not want to meet up with and, according to their culture, would enter the room before them if that were the case, otherwise the one opening the door would allow the other to enter first and guard their back as they did. "I find this job to be relaxing in a way that even working as an Enforcer never was, though it satisfied core coding. That and, as I am sure you are aware, I have not worked overtime in most of a vorn, at least at the Council buildings – I have been working here to get the place ready for this orn."

The larger mech laughed lightly, stepping past the smaller black and white to enter the former residence. "Do you know why they chose to construct the business district here when this house showed that it used to be a residential area? And do you need help stocking the display cases?" His gaze darted over to the owner slyly. "I would be happy to help."

The doorwinger chuckled at the last comment. "Of course you would, TC, but you would take all of my treats before anyone could even realize that I now have a business open here." He paused for a moment, thoughtfully staring at the ceiling. "As for why the business district is here, I believe that was done so that mecha would not remember those that had come before and lived here with families. The Council is probably trying to spare the mecha that – or at least the Neutrals as I do believe that the Autobots and Decepticons have been through much worse than walking over land that their comrades and family had fallen on. Much worse. In fact, I remember having to walk over the deactivating frames of friends."

He slipped behind the counter and lifted a box that was lying under it to sit the container on the polished copper. With the press of a button, the top and sides folded down to reveal what had been kept there – a large amount of all different kinds of treats and goodies that needed to be plated and then displayed or kept in their protective boxes that would fill the shelves behind him with the excess that would be needed, though these would only fill a small portion of the number that was needed. For that, he had a kitchen there that he could use as a type of 'bakery'. "If you would be kind enough to hand the trays down to me?"

The Seeker looked around the – currently – small shop that he knew would be expanded eventually, spotting the rather large pieces of metal quickly where they sat on one of the higher shelves, balanced rather precariously near the edge. As he moved to do as asked, he commented, "What did you do, Prowl? Get 'Warp to put them up there? Or did you have to stretch and then push them onto the shelf further? They surely are not stable by any means and could fall on your helm." He brought them down carefully and placed them on the copper counter near to the doorwinger before moving each piece in the stack to a different place so that the other would not have to go digging for the specific one that he wanted to use.

With a grin for the flier, the smaller mech selected a rather small tiered set of trays and began to arrange some of the treats on it in a way known only to him, but that seemed to make them even more appetizing. "For your information, I put them up there myself as I do not quite trust Skywarp with them and they were out so close to falling because it would be easier for me to pull them down by myself if I had been unable to solicit your help this early since I know how the government can be." He chuckled lowly. "As for falling on my helm, I do not believe it will do much damage as I have been hit there often enough. Ratchet has always enjoyed a kind of 'percussive maintenance' on us Autobots."

That brought a laugh from the cerulean and silver mech that was loud and clear in its mirth at the truth of the statement that had just been delivered in such a deadpan tone. It was necessary to have a highly developed sense of humor when it came to this mech or the times he was joking would be lost on everyone. That was probably part of the reason that they had gotten along so well when they had finally been able to interact at the negotiations, though it had been helped along by the fact that they could read each other's wing twitches like a book-file and had begun sharing many a conversation just that way while the other elected negotiators had been bickering over some of the smallest parts of the treaty – and ones that were not important to anyone other than those that were arguing. "And it sure has not knocked sense into your helms either!"

The doorwinger grinned lightly, panels twitching in his amusement. "No, it definitely has not. Even worse, it only encouraged the Twins, which brought more of it on them and began a quite vicious cycle that no one has ever tried to break. The medic is just too terrifying to confront and the Twins would not listen anyway."

"No, that they would not do, if only to spite you and the command element. They've had it out for you all since the moment they joined the war."

"Oh, they were not _that_ bad, and they normally _did_ listen to me. However, they rarely, if ever, listened to Optimus, who never could figure out why that was so. They shared why that was with me once, actually, and the explanation made a kind of sense, though I would not say that it was the most logical either," he stated distractedly, placing the small tiers in a display case and moving on to the next plate.

"Would you care to share what that reason was?"

"Just that they knew that I could do them more damage if they did not follow my orders, but that Prime would not do anything other than look at them with disappointment. Apparently that look had become so common that it no longer had any effect on either of them, but the fact that I had the power to send them into battle on a suicide mission without them knowing it was enough to keep them in line for me."

Thundercracker laughed lightly. "Kept them in line, Prowl? Unlikely."

"Oh, they were kept in line, TC," he said, turning a rather wicked grin on the Seeker. "Who do you think encouraged all of the pranks that they pulled and made sure that they had the materials they needed?"

The blue and silver mech stared for a long moment in shock. That was not something he had been able to deduce from anything that he and the former tactician had ever talked about. "Seriously? _You_ were the one that helped them do _those_?"

"Of course. It kept morale up and kept all three of us engaged in what was happening on the _Arc_. If we had not been engaged in that, we would all three have become the most reclusive mecha you would ever come across. Sideswipe pulled it off the best, of course, but both Sunstreaker and I had friends. It will come in handy when word gets out that I have opened this place."

"That it will, though I think that you will have enough business coming in soon enough without any help from the Autobots. You're situated perfectly." He checked his chronometer quickly to make sure he still had enough time to get over to the Assembly Hall in time for his office hours that he had taken on. It was time for him to leave to be able to make them and he said as much to Prowl.

One of the small containers from the large box was picked up quickly and pushed into his hands by smaller white ones. "That is for you. They are Seeker grade with plutonium flakes, gelled, and encased in trillium. Try not to eat them all this orn, TC. I do not have any others currently made and they take several orn to finish to my standards."

With a chuckle, he darted from the building and launched himself into the air – only after stuffing the container of treats into his subspace so that they would not be damaged – so that he could reach the Hall on time. By foot, it would take far too long and would leave too many wondering where he was at, which would just result in a huge hoopla that he did not need, though it would definitely draw attention to Prowl's little shop. That kind of publicity could kill it though, so he continued on his flight pattern, the small box burning a hole in his subspace as he restrained himself from pulling them out and sampling them before he landed.


End file.
